Blue Fire Drabbles
by BellatrixLestrangey
Summary: A collection of prompts from Azula week 2017; Dragon, Thunder and Lighting, Modern AU, You Weren't Even A Player, Throne, OTP/OT3, Training.
1. The Dragon In The Box

A soft tinkling melody fills the room as Azula tries to get herself some sleep. She watches in the dying candlelight as the figures in the music box rear up and fall back down on their mechanical hinges. To her, it is a curious thing. She has always been fascinated by the workings of the musical mechanism. How each and every cog and tiny lever moves with such precision and accuracy. In that way, she sees a bit of herself in the contraption. It's so complex and difficult, hard to figure out but expensive, beautiful, and rare all the same.

Azula runs her thumb up the side of the polished mahogany. Overtime it has become somewhat scratched and a little faded from the washes. Her thumb finds one of the decorations that are screwed into each corner. They are small metal imitations of fine lace. Each of these decorative pieces have been painted with pure gold. She traces her finger over the very center of the music box's base. Right there rest shimmering dragon scales, red in hue and fringed with a glittering gold. Azula had always been told that the gold on the scales come from the dragon rolling around in its hoard. Apparently, some of the gold rubbed off onto the creature and clung there. Azula still isn't sure if she believes it, but she truly wants to.

She opens the lid once more, as she has done so many times. Even though the candle has completely died out now, Azula can clearly visualize the familiar figure within. She has seen it so many times it is hard not to picture it.

She holds the music box at eye level and peers at the dragon with in. It had been crafted out of solid gold, every scale etched in with special attention. Everything about it was fashioned with great care from its elaborate, ring dressed claws and its sharp grin to the medallion it wears around its neck and the crown positioned on its head. Azula's favorite thing about it though, are sapphires fixed in its eye sockets and at the very tips of its whiskers. Next to the dragon she knows that there are exactly eight lotus flowers; some of amber and some of gold. And one—the eight one—made of ruby. They are in a diamond pond and the dragon perched on a Smokey quartz in the center. She wonders how difficult it must have been for the artist to make the dragon move without harming the precious minerals.

She windes it up again and sets it back down. She, herself, positions her arms on the table and props her head on her arms. With the tinkling tune, she knows that the dragon is coming alive. It is again rearing up and dropping. And after every few bucks, it unleashes a furl of sapphire flame. Back when everything was mostly okay, her father had the artist replace the amber with sapphire, just for her.

Azula smiles at the thought.

Softly, she begins to hum the tune.

A tune that, for longest time, had been her only source of comfort. Whenever her father raged or her mother's scolding became to oppressive, she would sit cross legged on the floor and watch the golden dragon spin and the lotus flowers twirl around the pond. She would sit and stare hard and long, trying to figure out how the machine worked—how it was that the flowers were able to cross the diamond. Putting that much thought and concentration into something so mundane helped her keep her mind away from whatever was troubling her at the moment.

Though, as a girl she was never able to figure out how it worked, she was thankful for that as it kept her mind busy for the longest of time. Recently, Azula had come to conclude that the artist had made and ever so small cut in the gemstone for the sliver of a peg that held up the flowers to glide through. It is very creative thinking, she decides, and she admires the mind that had come up with it.

The music stops again, prompting her to give it another twist.

She does.

This time she moves away from the music box and her beloved dragon and returns to her bed. She is at ease tonight, but she still enjoys the simple pleasure of letting the dragon box and its enchanting melody lull her to sleep.


	2. Kissing Dead Pearls

White hot flashes illuminate the sky. They reflect in the wind-woken water and threaten the sand. A crash of thunder roars across the shoreline. It is destructively alluring. If Azula didn't know any better, she would be walking along the beach where the water meets the shore. Even fully aware of the danger, Azula considers, as a passing though, kicking off her shoes and going for it.

"You're like the storm." Sokka had once told her, before he set out to sea on some sailor's endeavor. "Wild and unpredictable." She recalls his brother-like smile and his arm over her shoulder. "Yes siree, you remind me of these stormy nights. Beautiful and dangerous as the lightning and intimidating as the thunder." He had tipped his sailor hat and kissed her on the forehead. She hadn't seen him since.

When the sky isn't raging, she usually goes down to the harbor. It is a marvelous place. A quint and bustling place, exactly the kind one expects of a little fishing town. The docks are coated in layers upon layers of white paint that constantly chips off. Azula doesn't know why they even bother at all; between the storms, the stream of feet, the scrapes of the boats, and the constant causal batter of the ocean, the paint never stands a chance. She goes there with hopes that one day she'll see Sokka tying and anchoring the 'Pearl Racer' to the dock. She has had no such luck. And so she'll usually look a few times in each direction before sitting down, dangling her feet in the water, and shedding a few silent tears.

But today is no such day. For the past three days and nights it has been nothing but dark grey skies and perilous waters. Not even the toughest, most boastful, tattoo and muscle covered, sailor dared visit the harbor. As things were, these tough men and women won't even get within a few miles of the sea.

Store owners too have long since evacuated the boardwalk. Azula hasn't spied Katara opening the lobster joint for Hakoda since the first server weather forecast rolled across the TV screen. TyLee's family had also closed early—they stopped offering boat rentals even before Katara's dad hung up the 'closed' sign. Nobody—save for a few unknowing tourists—wanted boat rides on a day like that anyhow. Mai's family promptly boarded up and barricaded their seaside jewelry shop. Heaven forbid the storm washed away all of their handmade pieces. Even Toph and Aang skipped out on their sunset rollerblading.

So it is just she and Zuko now. The only pair ballsy enough to weather the storm. That haven't much of a choice really. Their father owns the lighthouse but can't be damned to upkeep it himself, he spends much of his time in the 'upscale' bars.

At last completely entranced by the storm, Azula steps outside. She knows it's stupid. She knows it's a dreadful idea, but she can't put it out of her head.

She is intrigued.

Sokka had always made her feel so close to the lightning and thunder. She wants to give him a story when he gets home. He probably has hundreds from his time at sea. Feeling oddly fearless, she watches the tides slap hostile against the rocks on which her lighthouse loomed. It is dizzying. For a moment, she thinks of pitching herself off of the tower, if for no other reason than to feel the sensation. To see what it is like to truly be at the mercy of the coast she has grown to know so well. She thinks better of it, and instead takes a step back.

The wind takes a liking to her hair, whipping it haphazardly about. She swears she can hear a shout, but it is swallowed up by the wind as a whale swallows a shiphand. The thunder grows louder—sand shakingly so—and the lightning flashes brighter.

Now that night has fallen, it is the only thing that allows her to see the sea itself. Though that's what it is designed for, not even the beam of the lighthouse can pierce through a wall of clouds this concrete and thick.

The rumbling of the thunder and the groaning of the ocean goes silent for a moment. "Azula get inside!" She finally hears Zuko. He sounds a bit frantic. But Azula doesn't think anything of it, her brother has a history of being over-anxious and somewhat over-bearing. He'd been so ever since their mother fell victim to a hurricane some years ago.

After what seemed like forever, the lightning—to Azula's thrill—flares again. This time it's a jagged bolt in the sky, she sees it meet the churning waves. And in its light she notices for the first time, something adrift in the water.

She squints.

"Who is foolish enough to…" the words die on her tongue, she doesn't feel like she needs to finish them.

"Azula get inside, now!" There's a sense of urgency to his voice now.

Another bolt lights the beach.

Azula can now make out the sails of a ship that is bobbing in the rain-mist.

She shivers.

Something isn't right.

"Azula!" Zuko hollers again. Before she can even turn around, he pulls her back inside.

Azula turns her attention back to the horizon. But even with the next round of thunder and lightning, she cannot spot the sails again.


	3. Shredded

Azula is tired of being there, hooked up to machines and wires with various fluids pumping through her veins. She is in horrid pain and can scarcely breath, let alone open her mouth to speak. Yet Zuko and Mai, and TyLee keep talking. They all visit her, sometimes as a group (when Zuko and Mai could stand to be around each other) and sometimes in turn. TyLee usually enters with the latest high school tall-tales and drama. She makes everything seem so annoyingly normal. As if Azula hasn't been in the hospital for months, just awakened from a coma she wasn't supposed to have.

With Mai comes the truth. Mai always tells her exactly what the doctors mean, not the sugar-coated bullshit they say to her face. The nurse would come in, smile, and promise that, "it'll be over soon, maybe a week or so." Mai would follow in suite and as soon as the nurse disappeared would state, "they're thinking that it'll be a few months at best." Azula was thankful for it, she doesn't like to be babied or hear pretty lies.

Zuko always comes in silently. He leaves a bouquet of flowers or some stuffed animal or—if she's lucky—smuggled in junk food that she's not supposed to have. He doesn't say anything to her and it stings. He's still angry.

Very angry.

Azula turns over. This time Mai had managed to sneak in a mirror. Apparently, the doctors thought that those would be too distressing for her. And they were right. Azula didn't show it to their faces, or to Mai's, but what she had seen in the mirror has had her stomach churning in the most unpleasant way for the past few hours. She covers her slashed mouth with her hand to keep the sobs from escaping. Feeling sick with self-pity, she struggles to keep herself together. That glance in the mirror told her why she was having trouble seeing, the accident had taken her left eye and left multiple deep lacerations all over her face. She bites her lip. Despite what the doctors say and not having heard anything at all from Mai about the matter, deep down she knows that she's never going to be the same. That those wounds will never heal. Walking down the halls of her school, she'd become the kind of gossip TyLee always bought to her. It's a bitter taste in her mouth—knowing that she had everything. That she was that girl, the one everyone aspired to look like. The one who was always voted as the owner the best hair, the best smile, the prettiest eyes. That had been ripped from her in a single collision. With her hand she covers the space where her eye should be. Part of her wishes she had lost the other too, so she would be spared the sight of her new self. The self that was created in a frenzy of screeching tires, cracking glass, and shrieking metal.

Her hands are a disaster too. The tops torn and shredded by shards of glass and the palms charred from pushing against smoldering metal. She is lucky they say…strong. The only reason she survived is because she weathered the pain and freed herself from the burning husk of a car. Chan, Roun-Jain, and his girl didn't have it in them to put their hands on the burning doors to push them open.

Chan.

The name is completely sour.

Not because he had been the one to cause the accident in the first place, but because he had waited for her to do the hard work before making his own escape. He didn't even go back for his girl—apparently, she was nothing more than a 'side hoe anyways', as he puts it. Azula would have gone back for her, had she not collapsed into her coma first.

And yet Azula can't be mad at him. They are teenagers. Teenagers do stupid and reckless things, and she was as drunk as he that night. All four of them were. Perhaps she wasn't _as_ drunk, but she was damn near close.

No, she blames herself.

She has no one else to be mad at. She should have called her father, stammering drunk, and endured the berating and harsh screaming. Instead she opted to try and sneak in. Now Ozai won't even look at her. If only she'd just called him, she'd have been able to patch that over with some sweet-talk and the excellent grades she is known for. But she can't patch this up.

Her sobs grow in volume. She feels as shredded inside as she looks on the outside—perhaps more so. She buries her ruined face in her hands, with just enough care to not make the injuries worse. She sobs harder knowing that Zuko would normally be here with her. If only she didn't piss him off before getting piss drunk.

She should have kept her mouth shut, but she thought she owed it to Mai (after years of the introvert bearing the pains of being in the limelight for her) to tell her that Zuko was getting it on with Katara after football games. Mai had always been upfront with her, so she returned the favor. And where she earned brownie points with Mai, she threw a gaping hole in her already rocky relationship with Zuko.

There are just so many should have's and should not have's swirling in her head. It makes her weeping that much more intense. But above all else the thought that she once had it all, weighs most heavily on her aching heart. She wishes she didn't pry herself from the car. Most of her wishes she was just another 'side hoe' for Chan to say wasn't worth saving.

Someone drops onto her bed.

She brings her pathetic cries to an immediate halt and looks up at her new companion. Zuko has his hand on her back, rubbing in comforting circles. For once she doesn't flinch away, she lets him be the older brother he wants to be. After a few moments, he stops. With a lopsided and mischievous smile he pulls something out of his pocket.

He sets the eye patch in Azula's hand. It's the most elaborate thing she has seen in a while. It is completely covered in jewels that are—without a doubt—the real deal, and the most wicked looking studs. Designer brand too, had to be custom.

Zuko gives her a look that seems to say, "you're welcome, dad's gonna kick my ass for using his credit card to get this." Instead he looks her in the eye, smiles reassuringly, and says, "thought that maybe you'd like to start a new trend."


	4. Cutback

Azula watches Sokka's board glide atop the wave. The wave is a good eight or so feet high. Azula bites her lip, she may have an issue catching one of that size when her turn finally arrives. She watches him with extra care until she remembers that he can't bend water to cheat. She momentarily berates herself for forgetting such a significant fact. At least this year they won't have to worry about cheating—last year's competition ended with some watertribe girl bending the waves around her surfboard to rise higher, but at the same time less roughly so she could easier keep her balance. Azula could have sworn that the girl had also made the waves rougher on Zuko. The girl was caught and disqualified. But she still put a hitch in things. If Azula is honest with herself, she feels bad for the other waterbenders because they now have to deal with the suspicious stares.

Sokka, for all of his clumsiness on land, has mastered the ability to weave gracefully in and out of the waves. His board bobs and for a second she thinks he's going to lose balance. But he rights himself again and finishes the wave with a pompous bow. Azula rolls her eyes.

He trots smugly up the beach, right over to where Azula sits. He takes her by the hand and pulls her up. "You're up, good luck."

Azula quirks an eyebrow. "Luck? I don't need that. I have skill." She flashes a smile smug enough to match his own. "Congrats on not falling on your ass." She adds.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Sokka shrugs.

"It's the best you're going to get." Azula winks. She grabs her board and rushes towards the shoreline. She lets a few six foot waves crash and die. So far all she sees now are a bunch of ankle snappers. Finally, a sizable wave of seven feet comes along—she passes on it too because a good number of their points come from the size of their chosen wave. If she picked that one, Sokka would have a whole foot's advantage on her already. She waits a little longer and one of eight feet looms overhead. She considers it. She also mulls over the possibility of catching a nine-footer. This could be her only shot though, there's a good chance that no bigger waves would show up. It's a risk she's willing to take. Even knowing that she only had five waves left before she'd either be disqualified for taking too long or have to go with whatever size that fifth wave is. She waits, her stomach filling with butterflies as the third wave—only four feet tall—crashes against the sand.

Finally she spots it. It is about nine feet high, a perfect A frame too. Azula grins and readies her board. She runs out to meet the wave.

The ocean screams excitedly in her ears as she goes in for the bottomturn and finds her way to the top of the wave. She rides it down to the middle where she carves the wave for a good long time. She then goes in for a cutback, reversing her direction completely. It is fluid and flawless, graceful and somewhat showy.

She aims to get to the top again, where she can perform her airs. These are always tricky for her—for everyone she's talked to, really. But they add style. She has been practicing this for a long time, coming down to the beach as often as possible. So far every time she has come close but was never quite able to land her board correctly. She has always come so close though. She could always take the 360 out of the maneuver, but she owed it to herself to try.

Taking a deep breath, Azula goes for it. Her board leaves the wave; her heart is racing as she fights to keep her balance. She pushes herself anyways, taking the board into a midair spin before it crashes back down onto the wave. Again she feels her heart pounding, she wants to close her eyes, but he can't afford to do so, she knows if she does, she'll wipeout. But she doesn't, she is successfully back on the wave.

Azula smiles triumphantly to herself.

She hasn't much time to celebrate because she still hasn't gone into the tube yet. Her display wouldn't be complete without a solid barrel surf. She makes another cutback and goes into the barrel where she swiftly rides it out until just before it breaks. She makes one final bottomturn and ends her performance just before the wave hits the shore.

She is somewhat short of breath, but mostly with elation. Both Sokka and Zuko run up to her. Zuko grabs her board and Sokka slings her arm over his shoulder and helps her walk back.

"That was incredible." Zuko finally speaks. "I didn't know you mastered that one."

She thinks of the luck Sokka had wished her, perhaps it had come in handy after all. But she wouldn't let him know it. Instead she whispers to Zuko, "I didn't."

The trio sat down upon their beach towels and listened to the bongo players tap their drums. Though Azula was the last of the competitors to have her turn, it'd still be a while before the results come in. They may as well get comfortable.

"Sokka be a dear and get Zu-Zu and I some icecream?" Azula requests.

"Please." Zuko adds.

"Alright, but only because _one_ of you asked nicely." Sokka shrugs.

"Yes, the sound of my voice is nice on the ears." Azula replies.

Zuko chuckles and watches Sokka head over to the concessions area. He comes back a sometime later with the ice cream and some news, "Looks like I scored second." He hands the list he had jotted down, to Azula. "Thought I'd get up there and look at it before everyone else realizes it has been posted."

Azula almost doesn't look at it, she wants to hear the names being announced. But her curiosity is too deep, she looks over the list. She doesn't have to look very far, for her name had been written at the top. "Is this the real list?"

"Why would I lie to you? If I did I would have said that I got first. I will get first place next year." Sokka vows.

"Not if I can help it." Azula gives a mischievous laugh.

"Congratulations, Azula." Sokka finally says.

"Yeah, you did amazing out there." Zuko adds.

They expect her to say, 'I know' or something of that nature. But instead she responds, "thank you, both of you." She almost continues but decides that anything else would be too sappy.

And besides, she got cut off by Long Feng and his angry grumbles as he passed by. "I got disqualified. _I_. Got disqualified."

"Disqualified?" Azula asked. "Don't flatter yourself, you were never even a player."


	5. Ashen Nation

Azula's crown feels heavy and her throne uncomfortable. What is a throne when you've no subjects? Azula thinks about this a lot.

She can't stop herself.

She wonders, if she had done something different, would she have some subjects to rule?

She knows the answer. She knows that no matter how she handled things, the outcome would have been exactly the same or similar. She could have lead the military out into defense positions, but they'd only have been desecrated earlier on in the game. She could have helped lead the evacuation party, but the warning had come so short that even with her aid, only a small band of people would have made it out—the rest left to be swallowed by the lava.

No, her mistake was cowardice. Azula had been out on the outskirts of the capital. She had seen the thickening smoke and tasted the sulfur in the air. But she did not go home. Part of her knows that she, on foot, wouldn't have made it anyhow. The citizens likely know it as well, but they need some scapegoat or another and Azula is just that. But she still tears herself apart over it, knowing that she didn't even try to get home and go honorably down with her nation. But the truth is, she was afraid. She can fight people, she can conquer fire, but she can't face a volcano. Not even Roku was able. So she didn't even try.

This is why they do not listen to her.

Why they no longer respect her leadership.

She is weak and they know it. She knows it.

So now she doubts herself as a leader.

After all, she'd only become one by default. Unlike herself, Zuko had been there; fighting until the smoldering and bitter end. She wants to weep, but doesn't want to look weaker than she already does to the few people still alive in the Fire Nation. Truth be told, she misses Zuko and all of the ways he had pissed her off. Azula looks down at her palms, she hasn't done much bending since that day. Her time on the throne leaves her with lots of time to think.

None of the thoughts are pleasant.

One of her first thoughts was a realization. A realization the Fire Nation had ironically died in the very fire they prided themselves on having mastered.

That _she_ prided herself on mastering.

Yet even their combined forces couldn't bring the volcano down.

So Azula can't bring herself to bend it anymore.

She isn't alone in this; most of the survivors have come to the same conclusion.

Azula knows she is a mess. All of this thinking and isolation is not good for her. Since no one will listen to her speeches and announcements, she stopped calling for gatherings. And since there are no more gatherings, she has no reason to comb her hair and change her clothes. She still does it, but not as regularly as she should.

Her power is a façade. She is the Fire Lord of a nation living on life support.

She has grown to hate the throne and what it's done to her.

She had spent so much time longing for it to be hers.

Now that she has it, it has become her worst enemy.

A thing that mocks her daily.

Azula looks around the throne room. No one is in it, no one but her.

For the first time in ages, Azula sees her blue flames. They rise on her palms and fall to the floor. It catches and spreads.

She watches the room burn.

Watches her throne burn.


	6. A Slice Of Cake And A Slice Of Revenge

Azula punches in his number for the fifth time that week, he hasn't called her back and he probably wouldn't. Epically since it's her birthday. Sometimes she feels like Jet deliberately ignores her on her birthday. But she keeps trying to call him. When she wasn't calling him on the phone she was calling it quits with him and then calling it on again whenever he found it in himself to offer her some pretty words or a charming gift.

Part of it was due in part to Jet being the only boy to pay her any mind at all.

Half of it was that he was the only boy to pay her any mind.

Finally, at her wits end, Azula throws her phone, it hits her mattress and bounces to the floor landing with a noticeable thud. If she wasn't so angry she would have immediately checked to see if it had cracked. But she doesn't care until she hears her ringtone sound.

Hastily she scoops it up and hits the answer button.

"Azula! Happy birthday!" Shouts the chipper voice of TyLee. She can hear the girl squealing and clapping.

"It isn't _that_ thrilling Ty." Azula mutters. _It's not thrilling at all,_ she adds bitterly to herself. She can't even get a call from her boyfriend, clearly her birthday must not mean anything.

"It is though! We are going to have some cake and throw a slumber party." Azula doesn't even have to bring the phone to her ear to hear the happy acrobat jabber away.

"Party? Who said anything about a party. You and Mai are the only two I invited…and I'm pretty sure that Mai's parents are forcing her to attend a college visit tonight." She paused and in case that didn't sink in she added, "so it'll probably just be the two of us, the cake, and Netflix."

"What about Jet?" TyLee asked.

Azula scowled, "fuck Jet."

"Oh…okay." TyLee replied after it set in that the two were in the 'off again' half of their relationship status. "Well how about this? I'm going to buy you the best present ever and I'll pick up some snacks and we can party all by ourselves."

"As long as we can get the place cleaned up before my parents get home from their anniversary getaway." Azula shrugs. "We don't have to worry about Zuko, I still have my leverage." She still hasn't told Ozai and Ursa of his football team house party fiasco.

"Of course." She can practically see TyLee beaming through the phone. "I'm already almost at your house. Like I'm really close."

Not even a minute after the words left TyLee's mouth, Azula heard the doorbell ring. She hangs up the phone and answers it. "You called me to ask for my permission _after_ you started heading here didn't you?"

TyLee nods.

"So, where is this present of yours?"

TyLee giggles, "I am the present!"

Azula pinches the bridge of her nose.

"I don't think that I can get you a better present than this." TyLee laughs.

Azula rolls her eyes and allows TyLee to come inside. The acrobat immediately makes herself comfortable—unfurling her sleeping bag in the middle of the TV room in the same spot as she does every time they sleepover.

"So, what's up with Jet this time? Why's he being such a douche?"

"I don't know what his problem is, I never do." Azula admits. "He's probably off with some other girl."

"Well good thing you are too." TyLee winks.

"That's not what I meant." Azula grumbles.

"But it can be." TyLee wriggles her eyebrows.

Despite that unattractive display, Azula can't help but admit that the girl is smooth as hell. "Oh? I'm listening."

"While Jet is doing whatever jet does, we can have the sexy pillow fight of his fantasies…" TyLee is wearing a coy smile.

"Or we can build a pillow fort and watch Netflix, like any other normal couple." Somehow Azula feels like that would be more satisfying than some type of softcore revenge porn. "I have a few movies in mind." She edges closer to childhood friend.

Before she is able to get too close, TyLee reaches into her pocket and tosses some confetti in Azula's face. "I would officially like to commemorate this day as both your birthday and the day we started dating."

Azula blinks and spits a few pieces of confetti out of her mouth. "Thanks a bunch Ty."

TyLee flings her arms around Azula. "Anytime!" She rocks Azula happily back and forth until Azula finally has enough and pulls away.

She takes TyLee's hand and leads her to the sofa. "How about you get started on our blanket fortress and I'll cut the cake."

TyLee is way ahead of her, the girl was already making a mess of the sofas, tossing pillow to the floor and pushing chairs out of their places. Azula rolls her eyes, but can't help but grin at the childish display. Truly, her birthday would not be complete without TyLee tearing up her living room. She cuts herself a slice of cake and then one for TyLee.

"I am so glad we're dating now. We're gonna be a much cuter couple than you and Jet were." TyLee exclaims as she rummages through a stack of blankets.

Azula hears her ringtone sound. Jet's number displays itself on the screen. The corners of her mouth tug into a vicious smirk. "TyLee would you like to repeat that?"

"Hmm?" TyLee asks.

Azula clicks the answer button just as TyLee says yes, and puts the phone on speaker.

"I said, I think that we're going to be a much more yearbook worthy couple than you and Jet. Don't you think?" She clasps her hands together. "We are just sooo cute!" She pulls out her favorite stuffed animal—a pink bunny she calls Loopsie. Azula has seen Loopsie attend a many of sleepovers.

"Oh I absolutely agree." Azula replies. She hangs up the phone before Jet could hurl around any of his possessive insults. And she means it—she'd never considered it before—but TyLee always had meant something quite special to her. Something beyond their childhood memories. She gazes at the acrobat; who needs a horde of boys when she can have one simply precious girl?

She hands TyLee her slice of cake and presses a kiss to her forehead.

"Are we going to cuddle tonight? I want to cuddle." TyLee requests.

"Ohhh…" Azula considers, tapping her chin, "perhaps we will."


	7. Squiggles

Squiggles looks up at Azula with the dopiest look on his puppy face. His tongue lolls out and he continues to pant. He's quite a few feet away from her and shows no intention of answering her call. She wouldn't answer either if her name was Squiggles. Kiyi was the one who had gotten to pick his name.

"Zu-Zu you call him! He won't answer me!" Azula hollaes.

Zuko looks up from his desk work, "It's your turn to train him."

Azula scoffs, "you left me with the hard work." She turns her attention back to Squiggles. "Squiggles get over here, now!" She is pointing in his direction and wears an angry pout. She knows that if she approaches the beagle, he's going to dash off. "Squiggles, come!" She demands firmly. She tries waving a treat in his face. But he flips over on his back practically begging for some belly rubs.

Azula slaps her palm against her head and sighs. "Fine." She accepts defeat and goes to him. She gives his belly some scratches. He yaps happily.

"Alright Squiggles," she mutters, "you got your belly rubs, now be a good boy and listen to me."

Squiggles looks at her as if she just said the stupidest thing he'd ever heard and sat back down. "Well at least you've mastered, 'sit'" She mutters.

Azula tosses Squiggles a treat. He gobbles it up, barks once, and looks at her expectantly.

"Squiggles come."

He lifts his right paw up. Azula kneels in font of him and takes his paw. He puts it down again. She shows him another treat, "shake."  
Squiggles lifts his paw again and she shakes his hand. She gives him another treat. Smiling smugly to herself, she deduces that she can train him to shake and play dead, and Zuko can train him come on command.

Azula tosses the last treat she has up into the air. "Alright, Squiggles, go up to Zuko and play dead."

Squiggles cocks his head and trots up to Zuko. "Hey buddy!" He reaches his hand out. Immediately Squiggles flops to the side, laying absolutely still. "Squiggles? You okay buddy?" Still the dog does not move, not even a twitch.

Azula snickers in the distance.

"Squiggles what's wrong?" Zuko asked the pup. He kneels down to pet Squiggles who still doesn't budge. "Azula I think something's wrong with him, we need to take him to the vet."

Azula snickers louder. "Okay, Squiggles come over here before we give Zuko heart attack."


End file.
